


One Enormous Bed

by storiesntea



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sweet, just plain cute, or can they?, sometimes I think I'm funny, they cant do miracles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25202791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesntea/pseuds/storiesntea
Summary: My version of what came after "You can stay at my place if you like"
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	One Enormous Bed

The bus stopped at Crowley’s door, without ever knowing why. Crowley and Aziraphle got off the bus together, side by side as they always had been. 

Crowley opened the door with a wave of his hand and allowed Aziraphale to enter first. 

“I don’t know about you,” Crowley breathed, sounding exhausted, “but I need another drink. Make yourself at home Angel,” he said, waving towards what could only vaguely be described as a lounge.

Aziraphale walked in and looked around. The room seemed to consist simply of a rather expensive but uncomfortable looking dark couch, a very sharp looking concrete coffee table, a large painting of some abstract description, and not much else. He took a seat on the couch (somehow, it was even more uncomfortable than it looked) and tried his hardest not to wince. He was much more accustomed to the overstuffed, cozy sofa of his bookshop, but he was determined not to offend Crowley after he so generously invited Aziraphale to stay. Also, Aziraphale reminded himself, there was no overstuffed, cozy bookshop sofa anymore. He took a deep breath, dampening the dark feeling threatening to rise in the back of his throat, just as Crowley came in carrying a bottle of red and two glasses.

Sitting side by side on the couch, Crowley sprawled out with his feet almost, but not quite, touching Aziraphales leg tucked up underneath him, his head resting on his hand. They emptied the bottle quickly, very few words being exchanged in the meantime. Both opting instead to simply savour the quiet comfort of the others’ company.

Eventually, Crowley sighed and stood to clear the glasses. “Well Angel, I’m knackered. Saving the world really took it out of me. Shall we hit the hay?” 

Aziraphale started out of his reverie, “Hmm? Oh, oh yes of course. I am completely exhausted.” He looked around, “Um, where shall I sleep?”

Crowley stopped and turned to look at the Angel, perhaps not having thought this all the way through. “Oh, um, I don’t actually have a second bedroom”.

“Well, I guess we can just miracle another room for now,” Aziraphale declared with the snap of his fingers. Nothing happened. He looked down at his hand, examining it as if it were a stranger. “Huh. I guess today took more out of me than I thought.”

Crowley shuffled on his feet. It would seem he was just enough glasses in to take a chance. “Yeah, yeah me too. Totally wiped I am.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Then, hoping but not expecting, he practically whispered, “but, I mean, you can, maybe, just share my bed, if you want.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to respond, but nothing seemed to come out.

Crowley started breathing quickly, he ran his hand over his face, had he gone too far? Had he gone too fast again? He was scaring the angel off, he could feel it. He tried to back track. 

“Only if you want to o’course. You don’t have to," he said, gesturing far more animatedly than necessary, "I mean my bed isss huge, we could both lay ssspread eagle and never even touch each other. But you don’t have to”. He chuckled to try to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. He’d ruined everything again. He’d gone too far, he was sure Aziraphale would leave, Crowley would probably never see him again. Was it really too much to want to spend the night with his best friend, after everything they’d been through? They had been friends for six thousand years! How much slower could he go?

Aziraphale suddenly found his shoes intensely interesting, not daring to look Crowley in the eye, afraid that he would see all of the angel's hopes and fears. “I, uh...it’s ok. I can just sleep on the couch,” he said cheerfully, while internally chiding himself for his own cowardice

Crowleys shoulders visibly relaxed. At least he wasn’t leaving, that was a good sign right?

“Trust me Angel, you don’t want to sleep on that couch. I fell asleep there once, never again! I couldn’t feel my legs by morning.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine, my dear. I’m sure I’m so exhausted I could sleep anywhere!”

Crowley tried for a smile. He was still glad the angel wasn’t leaving at least. “Up to you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up paralysed from the waist down...and up.”

Aziraphale chuckled as Crowley bought him a spare pillow and blanket. If he couldn’t be comfortable, at least he would be warm. 

“Goodnight Crowley. And thank you, for everything.”

Crowley flinched at the thanks, then flinched at his flinch. They were on their own side now weren’t they? He’d said that himself. He rubbed his hand across his neck.

“You’re welcome, Angel. Goodnight.” 

…..

Crowley closed the door to his bedroom and leaned back against it, closing his eyes. His Angel was just on the other side of that door. It was closer than Crowley had ever allowed himself to dream of getting to spending the night with Aziraphale. He had to pull himself together. It was only because Aziraphale had nowhere else to go, that was all. He couldn’t read too much into it. He pushed himself away from the door, and slinked towards the bathroom. He splashed his face with water, and with a snap of his fingers he was in his black, satin pyjama bottoms making his way towards the enormous - suddenly very lonely looking - bed.

He had barely laid down when there was a knock on the door. His head snapped up. He crossed the room in all of two strides and opened the door as calmly as his adrenaline filled body would allow. Crowley took a moment to take in the sight of Aziraphale in his soft white cotton pyjamas. Crowley wondered only briefly where they had come from, and whether they were as soft as they looked. 

Aziraphale froze. He was not expecting to see a half naked Crowley standing before him, and apparently his brain decided to take some time to soak it all in, whether the rest of him liked it or not (though the rest of him did not fight very hard to regain control).

Neither one had moved, or made a sound for a suitably uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, Aziraphale managed to get a few words out. “Um, yes, right, well, ah, so...you were right. That couch is definitely not designed for sleeping….Or sitting for that matter. Really, Crowley, where did you even get it? Or, more pertinently, why?!”

Crowley chuckled, more out of relief than humour. “Well, I did warn you...The offer still stands though, if you want to sleep in here.”

Aziraphale glanced over Crowley's shoulder, “I think that would be nice, thank you.”

_Nice?!? Did he just say nice? He could have said ‘better’, or ‘acceptable’ or a whole range of other adjectives, but he chose nice!?! Ok, don’t think about it! He’s an Angel, everything is ‘nice’ to him._

Crowley pressed his lips together, lest his internal monologue become an external one. He simply stepped aside and gestured toward the bed.

Aziraphale looked about the room. It was dark - but in a cozy way. It was quite grand, and mostly bare, though somehow it seemed homey - quite the contrast to the rest of Crowley's flat. The bed took up the majority of the room. It was covered in an incredibly plush looking comforter, and enough pillows and cushions to build a well fortified pillow fort. There were two large, overstuffed single sofas by the window (Aziraphale tried very hard not to picture the two of them sitting together with tea in the morning), and a very large, beautiful painting of a solar system on the wall opposite the bed. 

Crowley was leaning against the door frame watching as Aziraphale gingerly climbed into the bed. 

_Is this really happening? How is this happening? Why is this happening? What is happening?! Why am I just standing here staring?! Pull yourself together!_

Crowley shook himself back into reality, closed the door, and climbed into bed after Aziraphale. The bed really was enormous, and plenty big enough for the two of them. In fact, with both of them ‘casually’ lying as far apart as possible, you could easily have fit both Gabriel and Beelzebub comfortably between them. Physically comfortably that is. Conceptually it was anything but comfortable and didn’t bear thinking about. Unfortunately - and strangely coincidentally - both Crowley and Aziraphale had thought about it and were currently staring up at the ceiling trying not to blink, lest they picture the awkward scenario again. 

“See, plenty of room,” Crowley choked out nervously. 

“Almost a little too much room,” Aziraphale chuckled awkwardly, his eyes burning. 

Crowley looked across the vast expanse between himself and the angel, purposely trying to ignore the imaginings of Gabriel and Beelzebub. 

_Did Gabriel just wink at him?? Is Beelzebub wearing a nightcap?!_

“Maybe you’re right.” He shuffled towards the center of the bed, banishing Gabriel. 

_Wait, why was Gabriel next to him and Beelzebub next to Aziraphale? Surely the two demons and then the two angels should be side by side?...Oh, there was a Freudian conundrum he did NOT want to get into!_

He shuffled further, eliminating all traces of Beelzebub as well. Crowley slithered deeper under the blankets, before noticing Aziraphale still perched precariously on the edge of the bed. 

“Seriously Angel, the bed is more than big enough for both of us. That can’t be comfortable, and I don’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by your screaming when you fall off the edge.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” He shuffled so that both cheeks were on the bed, much more comfortable (surprisingly comfortable given the innate practicality and uncomfortable-ness of everything else in Crowley's flat). “This is all just so new to me. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.”

“Neither have I,” Crowley confessed, “but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share with.” Though he could very easily think of two beings he definitely did not want to share with! _Stop thinking about it!_

Aziraphale made a conscious decision not to think too much into that statement. It was obviously only because Crowley hated everyone, not because he had any distinct, positive feelings about Aziraphale. He decided instead to simply enjoy the warm comfort and try to get some sleep. 

“Goodnight, my dear. Thank you again, you have no idea how much this means to me”.

_You have no idea how much it means to me, Angel._

“It’s no problem, really. Just try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Angel.”

Crowley snapped his fingers and turned out the lights.

…..

Crowley stirred a few hours later. He and Aziraphale had moved closer together through the night and, looking over he noticed Aziraphale was awake, breathing erratically.

“Angel? What’s wrong?” He rolled over to face the angel, not daring to touch him, but desperate to be closer. 

Aziraphale started, not realising Crowley was awake. He wiped his hand across his eyes, hoping the dark would hide his actions. 

It did not. Crowley's mind started to race, his hand hovering over Aziraphales shoulder. “Angel, it’s ok. Whatever it is, it’ll be ok. What do you need? Do you need something to drink? Do you want me to miracle you a different bed? I think I feel rested enough now. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

Aziraphale sniffed, and let out a small sob, unable to hold it in any longer. Why did Crowley have to be so kind? Crowley was a demon, Aziraphale knew literal angels, and yet Crowley was easily the kindest entity he had ever met in his long life. 

“It’s not that,” Aziraphale managed, “this bed really is surprisingly comfortable.”

“Then what is it?” Crowley's hands were starting to shake, he still couldn’t decide where to put them. 

_Aziraphale is an Angel, why would he want to share a bed with me? He’s obviously too good for me. I shouldn’t have pushed him. I should have…_

“Crowley, I’m scared.”

Aziraphale had said it so quietly it took Crowley a moment to register exactly what he had said. He was not expecting that. 

Crowley placed (what he hoped was) a comforting hand on Aziraphales arm. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Angel," he said softly, "Heaven and Hell have bigger things to worry about right now. What with the lack of Apocalypse and all, everyone is going to be far too busy trying to reign in the troops and regroup. They’re not going to be checking up on you and me right now. We’re safe, I promise.”

Aziraphale sniffed again, wiping at his eyes. “I know that, that’s not...” he broke off with a sigh. 

Crowley lifted his hand from Aziraphales arm, but it remained hovering. He thought he had grown to know Aziraphale perfectly after six thousand years, could read him like one of his favourite old books. But right now Crowley had absolutely no idea what the angel was thinking. He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at his Angel, trying to catch his eye. 

“Then what is it? Talk to me Angel. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Whatever it is, I’ll protect you. I always do, don’t I?”

Aziraphale was quiet for a long time. Crowley really did always protect him didn’t he? He protected Aziraphale from being discorporated in the Bastille, from the Nazis in the Church where he even protected his beloved books - even when Aziraphale didn’t ask for it (he never asked for it, really) Crowley was always there, protecting him. 

Finally, Aziraphale let out a resigning breath and looked Crowley in the eye. “I love you, Crowley. I know I can’t, and I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I love you.”

Crowley froze. All these years he had dreamed of this moment ( _was he dreaming now? No, his elbow was going numb, that didn’t happen in dreams_ ). All the times he had imagined Aziraphale saying those exact words, it had always been perfect. Crowley would say it back, they would kiss, they would hug, and they would live happily ever after. But now it was actually happening and Crowley didn’t say a word. What could he say? Aziraphale said the most perfect words, and Crowley couldn’t bring himself to say a thing…..So he didn’t. He tentatively placed his hand on Aziraphale's soft cheek, leaned down, and kissed him - Crowley had always been better at acting out his feelings than voicing them.

Aziraphale let out a surprised, but not unhappy, gasp, before melting into the kiss completely. When Crowley pulled away, Aziraphale was left both entirely content, and utterly surprised. As if he had just been served his favourite warm apple pie, but the server was a giant penguin wearing a kilt.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Aziraphale smiled up at Crowley, trying to read his face.

Crowley was still trying to process what he had done, his hand still resting on the Angels cheek. But when he looked down at his angel and saw him smiling, he worried no more. He smiled back with the most loving grin Aziraphale had ever seen on a demon...or an angel...or a human for that matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those words?”

“Really?” Aziraphale leaned back in an attempt to look at Crowley properly. Crowley was a demon, surely love didn’t come into any of his thoughts. Especially not about an Angel. Though Crowley had always been different to other demons, that was one of the things he loved about him. 

“Angel, I’ve been in love with you since you spoke to me in the Garden. None of the other Angels would ever speak to me unless it was to hurl insults, or order me underground. But you were nice to me, you were my friend. And you were kind to the humans. Hell, you gave them your sword! Then you lied to God to protect them? You’re amazing! You’re the best person I know. You’re generous, and kind, you’re beautiful, and strong, and clever, and loyal, and more powerful than you give yourself credit for. You’re my best friend.” He was breathing heavily now, moving his hands along Aziraphale's arms and shoulders. The floodgates had opened and Crowley couldn’t close them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He couldn’t stop smiling, with his angel laying in his bed next to him, declaring his love. Crowley declaring back.

_Fuck, was that really how he just declared his love? Not exactly smooth. Definitely not how he pictured saying he loved the Angel for the first time. Oh well, too late now._

Aziraphale only vaguely registered Crowley's declaration before he felt a sudden urge to smite every angel who had ever been mean to his Crowley. Then his brain caught up and he finally heard all the amazing things Crowley had actually said. 

“Wait, you love me too?” Aziraphale blurted out, stunned. 

“Of course I do Angel, how could I not?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Well, you’re an angel. I figured you could never love a demon, and I’d rather be friends with you than nothing at all. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“But, I thought I would scare you off if I said that I loved you.”

“What? Angel, we’ve been friends for over six thousand years. Nothing you have ever said has scared me off, why would that be any different?”

“I could say the same to you,” Aziraphale said gently.

Crowley opened his mouth to speak, and promptly closed it again. How had they both been so blind? He placed his hand against his Angel's cheek again. 

“I love you, Angel.”

“I love you too, Crowley.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley down for another, longer, deeper kiss. A kiss that spoke of thousands of years of yearning, of hundreds of missed opportunities, and of opportunities yet to come, that would never be missed again. 

“You don’t need to be scared,” Crowley whispered. “I’ll always protect you. No one is going to hurt you, and no one is going to take this away from us.” He wrapped his arms around his Angel, enveloping him as completely as possible without reverting to his snake form. “Now get some sleep.”

…..

Aziraphale awoke the next morning having had the best sleep of his life. (Granted he had only really slept a handful of times, but this was the best nonetheless). When he rolled over however, he started to panic. Crowley was gone. Did he leave? Surely not. While Aziraphale may have been convinced beforehand that Crowley would run, after all the things Crowley had said, that couldn’t have been an act. It couldn’t have just been a lie so that he could escape through the night. Could it? 

Just as Aziraphale was about to climb out of bed to face the emptiness of the flat, and the emptiness of the rest of his life, Crowley walked into the room carrying a silver tray. Aziraphale let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Morning Angel. Everything alright?” 

“Oh, yes. Everything is perfect my dear. Silly me, when you weren’t in bed, I thought for a moment that maybe you’d run off,” he said with a flippancy he didn’t feel. 

Crowley _could_ read Aziraphale like an old favourite book, and he saw the concern in his Angels eyes. He placed the tray down on a small table next to the two chairs (that definitely hadn’t been there the night before) and walked over to the bed. Aziraphale was still under the covers in the center of the bed so Crowley had to climb in to reach him, before wrapping his arms around his Angel as tight as his snake muscles would let him. 

“I’m not going anywhere Angel, not ever again. I love you,” Crowley whispered into his ear.

Aziraphale melted, leaning his head on Crowleys shoulder. Aziraphale believed him, he believed him with all his heart. Aziraphale would never be scared again. Crowley wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I love you too, my dear.”

“Good,” Crowley declared, kissing his Angel before extricating himself from the enormous bed. “I made breakfast. Come join me.” He gestured to the chair and tray, looking very proud of himself. 

Aziraphale sat in one of the chairs (it was even more comfortable than it looked - how did Crowleys furniture keep doing that?!). Crowley handed him a cup of tea and sat in the other chair. He reached over and held Aziraphales hand between them like it was the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps now it was. They sat like that, side by side, sipping tea and looking out at the view for a long time. Both contemplating just how much brighter the future looked from here.


End file.
